


Samson

by kittybenzedrine



Series: Timelines [13]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Magic, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 16:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12136251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittybenzedrine/pseuds/kittybenzedrine
Summary: If Christianity existed in her world, if that particular God was heard and the Bible written like it was in other worlds, Ren would probably liken Grief to Samson, in a way.She wonders if all of Grief's strength lies in his hair._____All pieces of the Timelines series are standalones and can be read without context.





	Samson

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions a scene from another work in the timeline series. Not necessary to read it, as they all generally work as standalones

Grief rescues her, just as he always does when Ren's in deep shit and can't get out of it herself. The enemy warlord tries to have her burnt alive and Grief shows up, gets her out of trouble. Ren's cheek is scorched from where they tried to torch her, and while she knows it isn't too terrible, she knows even without looking in a mirror that it'll be scarred for the rest of her life.

The warlord's goons captured Grief at some point, and for his trouble, they hack off his low ponytail. He stews in his anger while she evens out the ends, salvaging as much of the length as she can. Over two feet of hair gone. From two inches above his hip, messily hacked sideways at his shoulder blades, and finally fixed to where it just barely touches the tops of his shoulders. Ren doesn't try to comfort him for a while, knowing it'll only make him angrier and possibly redirect some of the anger towards her.

It unnerves her for a few months when he refuses to take contracts. Killing is his favorite thing, tied for first place with fucking. They've been fucking a lot more than usual, and with another man it would be a good enough distraction, but nothing can quell the mercenary's bloodlust. He spars with his best men, goes into the forest around the castle and knifes any creature that can't outrun him.

It's not enough for him. They both know it. But she doesn't know how to ask him what's wrong, why he isn't right just because they cut his hair off. But she doesn't know how to keep the right tone, knows she'll get angry halfway through for no reason because her brain doesn't work right.

So Ren leaves it be. She kisses his face and throat and belly at night, takes him as many times as he can go when he pins her to the bed. She lets him cover her mouth as to not let her get too loud when she's mindlessly crying out, aching but begging him for more and more. During the day, she avoids him as best she's able, so she doesn't get the bloodlust directed at herself.

The first contract he takes after having his hair cut off, three or four months after the fact, he comes home with healing cuts and bruises, a split lip and a blackened eye. He never gets more than a few scratches maximum.

Ren asks him what happened, heeding caution because of the foul mood surrounding him. Uncharacteristically, Grief snaps at her and lashes out. Raises his voice, which he never does. She continues her game of avoiding him until she has no choice but to go to bed. He comes in sometime after her, and she watches him undress.

Under his clothes are a excess of bruises and cuts, black and purple and yellow and so painful just to look at. He looks at her, daring her to say something about it. It's certainly a change, she thinks as he settles into the bed behind her, for him to be the volatile one and not her.

His hair reaches the bottom of his shoulder blades another three months later. Ren has watched him come home less and less beaten, but still take significantly more damage than he used to take.

Months pass, and his hair grows longer and longer. They have a falling out, and she leaves for a few months. She comes back though, because they can't keep away from each other. Grief welcomes her back into their bed like nothing ever happened, and she maps out his new scars while they fuck.

She trims the ends of his hair, undoubtedly the first time it's happened since she left. He doesn't trust anyone else to have a pair of sharp scissors to the back of his neck. It's pleasant to see him so relaxed while she snips away the dead, split ends, sighing when she brushes his hair longer than necessary.

"Leo," she starts, trimming away at another section. "I have a question for you."

"Mm?"

"Why is it that after they cut your hair off, you got so torn up while taking contacts? The few months gap makes sense for being out of practice, but it's been over a year and you still take quite a lot of damage. But it... The damages becomes less the longer your hair grows back. Is it just psychological, or is your hair a factor in your strength?"

He's gone unnaturally still in his chair, putting her nerves on end. She continues to work on his hair in the silence, wanting to get done and get the fuck away from him for a while.

"Don't ask me questions like this again, Renee," he says lowly, so quiet she can barely hear him. In the exact cold voice she's heard him use to before slaughtering a target.

Ren finishes up the last bit, looking down at the dead black hair on the floor. He doesn't relax back, even with she brushes the last of the dead ends away. She sets the scissors on the arm of the chair next to him, and leaves the room before he has a chance to even get up.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> I have [my blog](http://iwillpooponthefloor.tumblr.com) on tumblr, if you'd like to check that out.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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